


Blutrunst: Under the Streetlamps

by IncurableNecromantic



Category: Original Work
Genre: Angst, First Kiss, Humiliation, M/M, Resolved!, Unresolved Sexual Tension, tumblr commission
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-08
Updated: 2015-12-08
Packaged: 2018-05-05 14:36:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,470
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5378708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IncurableNecromantic/pseuds/IncurableNecromantic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A rewrite of the streetlamp scene in Blutrunst, this time from Herod's perspective.</p><p> </p><p>  <i>A commission for mira-eyeteeth.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Blutrunst: Under the Streetlamps

Enoch’s voice was quiet and careful when he spoke. "Beast?“

“Hmm?” The sooner they got home, the better. The roast suffered every moment they were away.

“About this evening…”

Something in Enoch’s tone was odd. Herod turned his head to look at him, even as he all-but dragged him down the street. "Yes?“

"You were…” Enoch looked at Herod carefully, as if seeking the word he wanted in the gleam of Herod’s mask. When he spoke, he lingered over the consonants. "Vicious with Mr. Fred.“

Herod frowned. Perhaps he’d been a little crude, but he’d really thought that Enoch wasn’t squeamish. Had Herod had unsettled him more than he’d thought? Herod supposed he wouldn’t much like to watch someone savage a man the way he had. In a way, it was amazing that Enoch was letting Herod touch him.

"Yes, I am aware. I apologize for that,” he said. "It must’ve been very ugly to watch. I’m afraid I have no excuse. I just lost my temper.“

Enoch shifted and covered Herod’s hand with his own. He was so warm, despite the frigid night air. "Oh, no! No, please don’t think I disapprove. It was incredible. Absolutely incredible.”

Herod gave him a quizzical look, feeling himself half-smile. Strange, strange man. "Do you really think so? Still waters run deep, Mr. Barnes.“

"Yes, they do. Beast, you were almost unhinged… like a wild animal.”

Herod stiffened with offended surprise. Quite a thing to call one’s host!

“But you said a thing or two that I just can’t get off my mind,” Enoch went on.

Offense vanished. Oh, God. What had he said? He’d been so busy snarling and giving vent to rage that he hadn’t paid attention. It must’ve been something horribly embarrassing, if Enoch was this worked up about it.

Herod felt his shoulders tighten. "…such as?“

"You told Mr. Fred that I was beautiful,” Enoch said.

Herod’s heart plummeted towards his shoes and ricocheted back up to clog his throat. Oh, God. Oh, Christ. He hadn’t – he didn’t – !

His head snapped around to look at Enoch, terrified.

Enoch was grinning at him. No. Oh, no, not like this. Please.

“I believe I’m quoting you directly, there,” Enoch said.

Herod stared, hopelessly confused, before he realized that Enoch was waiting for his response.

Did he want Herod to perform, while Enoch played the cruel old tom cat, wanting to watch his quarry feign comfort before he eviscerated it? Or was this a warning? Go no further, and it won’t be mentioned?

Herod waved a hand, trying to wriggle out of Enoch’s grasp and walk on.

Enoch kept him pinned like a butterfly. Herod stammered something inane.

“Yes, perhaps I said something like that. I mean, you can hardly be unaware that you’re an attractive man.” He let out an artificial laugh. "Surely you’re not offended that I didn’t say ‘handsome’?“

"No, nothing of the sort,” Enoch crooned. "I don’t mean for this to seem like vanity, on my part. I only mention it because you seemed to be making a point that transcended mere aesthetic considerations.“

Caught. Trapped. Enoch was revolted and he was punishing Herod. Enoch was already laughing at him.

Fine. Herod would perform. He’d play the fool.

"There is nothing ‘mere’ about aesthetics, Enoch – ”

“Do you love me?”

Herod stopped breathing.

When the earth didn’t crack and swallow him, Herod dared a look at his companion.

Enoch was smiling. He was so beautiful under the street lamps. Herod wanted to do something pathetic – sob, perhaps, or just freeze, like he wouldn’t be seen and attacked if he didn’t move. Why hadn’t he hanged himself when he had the chance?

Later tonight. He’d go somewhere discreet and quiet, where they wouldn’t find his body.

“Of course I do,” he said, mouth forging on even though his body knew it was over. "You’re one of my dearest friends and I–“

"Beast,” Enoch said.

The word cleaved him nave to chops. Herod stood there with his guts spilled out on the sidewalk. He tried to stay in character, to be the fool a little longer.

But he couldn’t. Lost for words, he caved in on himself, empty, withered.

“Please don’t be cruel, Enoch,” Herod whispered, throwing himself on Enoch’s mercy. He would be merciful, wouldn’t he? Have his fun with it and then let him be? Enoch was a good man. He would be good in this, wouldn’t he?

He forged on, begging, pleading.

“I know it’s…” Disgusting. Grotesque. Insulting. "Funny. But please. Don’t be cruel. You never would’ve known, except for this. I would never have said anything.“

It was a moment of animal passion, from someone whose passion was supposed to be all used up. Herod knew he was supposed to be desiccated. He was just a dried monstrosity to be peered at, like a Fiji mermaid. He wasn’t supposed to still be capable of saying such things.

Enoch had to understand that, that Herod was as astonished and revolted as anyone!

"And if you’ll only forget one moment,” Herod said, because he was stupid, and selfish, and weak, and willing to do anything if Enoch would only pretend, “you’ll never see it again.”

Enoch put him in his place. "I want to see it every day for the rest of my life.“

Herod’s heart cracked inside him, humiliation rising up to swamp him.

Yes. He supposed it would be a very humorous novelty, to find that one could elicit such an ugly pantomime of love from a dead thing. How could Herod deny Enoch his rightful amusement?

His voice rasped when he spoke.

"Fine. Then enjoy it, for what little boost such a…” He faltered, found himself, went on. "…stupid mistake could be to your ego.“

Herod wanted to stop there, but it seemed his suicidal heart had still more begging to do. "But please. I ask you out of friendship, please – ”

“Beast, I adore you.”

Herod drew in a painful breath. The begging had been as pointless as it had been pathetic. He would be punished for his presumption.

“Please,” he said, although he knew it wouldn’t do any good. "Don’t be cruel.“

"I adore you,” Enoch said again. He took Herod’s unresisting hand in one of his and lifted it to his mouth. Herod wanted to retch, miserable and humiliated in the middle of the street. Every word stabbed him through the belly. "I love you, Beast. I treasure you. You are the most exquisite, the most beautiful man I have ever – “

"Enoch!” Herod snapped, ripping his hand away. Submission gained him nothing. Perhaps Enoch wanted to see his humiliation raw and enflamed. Perhaps then he would finally laugh and bring the hammer down to rest. "Don’t – this isn’t funny! There’s nothing you can get from me, sadist! I have no new pain to give you!“

"Beast,” Enoch said, so earnestly, so sweetly.

Herod wished his eardrums would rupture. Anything, so he never had to hear that name again.

Enoch went on. "I am desperately in love with you. I’ve never loved anyone more. And everyone knows it. Lorna, Isolde, Miss Clara… all of Pottsfield knows, and your groundskeeper most certainly knew it. You’re the only one who doesn’t seem to notice.“

At least Herod wasn’t the only monster here. Cruel comfort, to know that the man he adored could roast a soul just as easily as Herod could roast a body.

But did Enoch think him stupid enough to hope? No. Herod wouldn’t fall into his arms, just to be dropped. Herod wouldn’t ask for confirmation, when he knew it wasn’t coming. He couldn’t help but be a cruel joke, but he wouldn’t be a prank.

Enoch was so unconvincing in his lies. It almost made them worse.

"You don’t even know what you’re talking about,” he snarled. "You can’t love me. You could never love me! You’re a good man, and you hardly even know what kind of thing I am!“

Enoch was merciless, but at its root this was all really just innocent fun. Like pulling the legs off an spider. Wasn’t he out of limbs, by now? Why couldn’t Enoch just laugh and let it be over? What did Herod have to say, to make it stop?

"Of course I know,” Enoch said, gentle, arms open to him. "You’re a nightmare, Beast. And you’re the most brilliant artist I’ve ever seen. And you’re the man I love. And if I don’t know everything about you yet, I promise that I only want to know more. Every detail.”

Herod let out a pained whimper and curled his hands into fists. This was sick. He sounded so sincere, and it was so impossible. Because Enoch didn’t know. Enoch didn’t have the least idea!

“You – e-even if you’re not mocking me,” Herod said, battering down hope, cutting it open with both hands, “you don’t know what you’re talking about. There is nothing beautiful here.”

“Show me,” Enoch told him. "Show me, and I’ll prove it. Let me see your scars, Beast.”

Herod shuddered. He wanted to see the ugly thing that loved him. Why? Why expose himself to that?

"You don’t repulse me,” Enoch insisted. "You never could.“

It was too much. Herod growled aloud and ripped off his mask. "Say that now!”

He regretted it instantly. Enoch didn’t gasp or retreat, but Herod was naked in front of him. Ugly and naked, and now Enoch knew it all. There was nothing left of him. Just a malformed, slavering thing, crouching in the corners of rotting houses and feeding on dead humans.

And in love.

But it was done, and there was no use pretending he could hide now. Herod tilted his head, deliberately exposing himself to light for the first time in years so Enoch could see everything.

“Take a good look,” he said. His eyes were burning. "Take a very good, long look, and try to tell me that again.“

If Enoch could go through with his joke after this, he would be the greatest liar the world had ever known. Herod would vouch for it.

Enoch was staring at him, eyes wide. Of course he was staring. Who wouldn’t?

"Tell me that again,” Herod prodded, willing to pay him back for his cruelty. He wouldn’t just leave Herod alone. He deserved what he got. "I dare you.“

Enoch reached for him and Herod nearly flinched. But all Enoch did was curl his hand along Herod’s jaw.

Herod stared, feeling stunned, as if the hot brand of Enoch’s hand had give him a blow to the temple.

Enoch. Touching him. No mask. No glove!

How could he stand it?

Enoch’s fingertips brushed over his cheekbone and traced the curve of his ear. Enoch curled his fingers around the back of his head and leaned close, looming over Herod and eclipsing the streetlamp’s light.

Herod could only stare.

"I love you,” Enoch whispered. He bent his head and pressed his lips to Herod’s cheek. His mouth was so warm and so soft, where it pressed to the thin, withered skin that clung from Herod’s bones.

Herod inhaled, frozen, terrified. He grabbed Enoch’s wrist in a fit of mad instinct, but did nothing more.

“You’re beautiful,” Enoch said. His mouth pressed to Herod’s forehead, then down by the ruins of his nose. When he spoke, his breath fanned Herod’s lips. "The most beautiful man I’ve ever met.“

No. No, it was insane. He wouldn’t hope.

"Enoch,” he hissed. His body was shaking. He gripped Enoch’s wrist like he meant to tear the heavy flesh from his bones. "Enoch, you can’t really–"

"I can,” Enoch replied. He kissed Herod’s cheek again, then burned a trail to his jaw. He breathed in, so close to Herod’s neck. "God, how I do. You’re beautiful. You’re perfect. And I love you, and you drive me insane…“

Herod began hyperventilating, feeling Enoch’s breath through the fabric covering his skin, knowing he was just that close. He could tear Herod’s throat out, if he wanted to, and Herod knew he wouldn’t stop him.

He put both hands on Enoch’s chest, as if he could push him away. His fingers curled in his shirt and held him there.

Insane. Insane!

"I…I can’t believe you,” he said. He couldn’t. He mustn’t. It was cruel, or insane, or maybe he had been concussed. It couldn’t be real. He could not afford to believe it.

“Believe me, Beast,” Enoch whispered, rubbing his face against Herod’s neck, and Herod wanted to. He wanted to. "I love you. I love you, and you’re beautiful, and I want to make you happy.“

Time for the charade to end.

"Prove it,” Herod croaked.

“Tell me how. I will do anything,” Enoch promised him.

“Kiss me,” Herod said, before he could think it through.

Enoch groaned, and for a moment Herod thought he’d found the way to make this end. But Enoch only cupped his head with both hands and unerringly pressed his mouth to Herod’s.

Herod’s mind swam. Enoch was so warm, and so soft, and he touched Herod like revulsion was the furthest thing from his mind. He touched Herod, and took his time, finding the way to fit their mouths together. Herod was useless, a cold fish, but he had his limits, and as Enoch touched him and didn’t turn away, Herod instinctually melted.

Insane. A joke. A dream? A hallucination?

But whatever he was, this Enoch was committed to his path, and Herod was weak and selfish and stupid. So Herod yielded, and Enoch kissed him and kissed him, stroking and rubbing and teasing his mouth like he enjoyed it. Pleasure, alien and terrible, radiated through Herod’s blood and he whimpered when Enoch touched him like he wanted to please him. His fingers speared though Herod’s hair and held him tight, the fingers of one hand rubbing just beneath his naked jaw.

Herod was the one to draw away, needing to breathe. He stared at Enoch, panting, trying to think. There had to be an answer.

Enoch wasn’t laughing. He wasn’t even smiling, because he was panting for breath and looking at Herod with something that looked impossibly like desire.

Herod threw himself at Enoch again, clutching him tightly. Enoch groaned for him, a sound that zinged down Herod’s back and electrocuted his blood. Herod ran his tongue across Enoch’s lips, needing to taste him, and Enoch opened his mouth for him, letting Herod inside him.

He was losing focus. Explanation. Explanation!

He broke the kiss. His legs wouldn’t take a step back, so he stayed in the circle of Enoch’s arms, gasping like a drowning thing.

“You let me kiss you,” Herod said. The words came back to his own ears and they didn’t make any sense.

Enoch’s arms flexed around him and drew him closer. "Yes. I did. Please do it again. As many times as you like.“

Oh, God. Oh, God. What was he doing? How had this happened? It was impossible, ridiculous, but Enoch had kissed him, and Enoch had let Herod kiss him, and he wasn’t laughing. He wasn’t laughing at all.

"You actually,” Herod started. "You honestly…“

He couldn’t say it. It was still insane, still completely ridiculous.

"Feel that way.”

“Love you,” Enoch said, holding him. Petting him. "Yes. I do. And I want you.“

Herod began to shake. He couldn’t stop himself, trembling afflicting every inch of his body. Enoch held him closer, bathed him in warmth, drew him against his body as if it was agony to stay a safe distance.

"This is impossible,” Herod told him. Maybe he needed reminding? "You’re beautiful. You’re so beautiful, and you’re so good. You’re a good man, and I’m…and the things I thing about you…“

Enoch gave him a warm, beautiful smile. His voice was dark and sweet, and he sounded so pleased. "Oh, go on…”

Herod stared at him, and his heart broke the rest of the way. That last door snapped off its hinges and the iron siding around his battlements shattered, and his heart cracked open and bled like an egg, too hot and wet inside him.

“Really?” he asked, unable to stop himself. Unable not to hope. A smile dragged him open and he let Enoch see it. "Really?“

Enoch kissed him, holding him so close. He was so big, so overwhelmingly huge, and Herod had to have every piece of him. Herod was so hungry in so many ways and Enoch was what he craved. His hands skated across Enoch’s body, from the broad expanse of his chest, up over his shoulders, and around his neck. Loving the leverage, Herod pulled himself closer and pressed himself full-length against Enoch’s body. He was so, so warm, despite the bitingly cold air, and his stomach was so soft where it pressed against Herod’s bones, and his–

Herod wiggled just a bit and almost choked.

Enoch took a short breath in and broke the kiss.

"Mm, hello there,” Enoch purred, breath skating down Herod’s neck. Herod leaned back and stared, not sure he believed what he’d felt.

“You’re hard,” he croaked.

“Oh yes,” Enoch replied. He spread his legs a little and oh, dear. Herod could seem him, thick and hard against the fabric of his clothes. The palm of Herod’s hands itched, wanting to hold and stroke him through his trousers. His mouth watered.

God, he was embarrassing.

Enoch was still talking. "I’m well aware of that. I have been, more or less, since you killed Mr. Fred.“

Herod looked him in the eye. "That long?”

“On and off.”

“Violence excites you,” Herod murmured. Sadist. He knew it. Not that that was a problem, really. No kind of deal-breaker, that.

“No,” Enoch replied. Herod blinked at little as Enoch’s fingers, the ones that had been cradling the back of his skull, dragged sweetly through his hair. Herod nearly melted on the sidewalk. It felt so good, and it had been so long, and Enoch was so gentle. He could only barely pay attention to what Enoch was saying. "Your violence excites me. The number of times I’ve been glad you have long tablecloths…“

Oh, God. At his table? Right beside him? How many times had this happened? How many wasted opportunities–

Herod dragged Enoch down to him and kissed him again, grinding his hips shamelessly forward against his erection. Enoch smiled against his mouth and let him do what he liked, an incredibly thrilling prospect. The man seemed to have precious few objections to being put at Herod’s not-particularly-tender mercies. The images a little consideration of that fact prompted were more than enough to make Herod’s head spin.

At last, Herod decided he probably had to breathe. Or at least let Enoch breathe.

"Oh, my God,” he panted. Herod rolled his hips forward. It was a little sluttish of him, but he really, really couldn’t care. "You were hard for me? And I never – I didn’t even think to –“

Because why would he? Who would ever have imagined? Who would ever have dreamed?

Enoch’s hands shifted on him a little and drew him still closer, brilliantly engineering it so that firm bulge pressed warmly against Herod’s hip. Herod swallowed, wanting very much to spread his legs, right here on the sidewalk.

"My God, you’re big,” he said weakly.

Enoch laughed, low and dark and sweet, and kissed him very gently. Herod’s heart hammered against his ribs and Enoch kissed his cheek, breath hot and soft against his ear.

Enoch purred against his skin. "Entirely your fault, my dear.“

It was all for him. Herod was going to collapse.

He cupped Enoch’s jaw and leaned away, wanting to see his face. If this was a dream, there would have to be some detail missing, some incorrect feature or blurred shape. He examined the man holding him, from eyebrows to his bright eyes, to nose and lips and chin and beard.

Perfect. He was perfect.

Herod wanted to feel Enoch’s cheek slide against his. He wished he had a nose that he could rub against Enoch’s. He’d never been so grateful that his mouth had been spared as much as it had.

Enoch smiled at him and Herod entertained a few dizzying thoughts about Berenice. Beautiful. Monomania was surely incipient. As if it hadn’t already been a problem, just considering that moustache. Herod wanted to feel it against his own, and against his lips, and brushing down his stomach, and tickling between his thighs –

To quell the descent into madness, Herod tilted his head and kissed Enoch again. And then again. Enoch kissed him back, and Herod sighed as their mouths meshed and Enoch’s tongue brushed softly into his mouth for the first time. It sent a thrill through him and he shivered, dizzy with desire, undone by the astonishing pleasure of having a beautiful, living man willingly in his mouth.

Oh, wait.

He broke away. Enoch made a little noise of extremely flattering dissatisfaction and did not loosen his grip.

"Shit,” Herod said.

“Hmm?”

“The roast.”

Enoch stared at him and began to laugh. Herod wanted to tense and be prickly about it, but he was so comfortable in Enoch’s arms and the man felt so good against him, even when he was laughing. Damn his pride, Herod supposed, and let Enoch exhaust his mirth.

“Of course,” Enoch said at last. He kissed Herod’s cheek and all was forgiven. "The roast. Mustn’t neglect it. Not after all the care and attention you gave it.”

"We really should go,” Herod said, more to himself than anyone else. He’d managed to drag himself out of Enoch’s grasp and put himself back together, and had just managed to take a step towards home when he found himself maskless once more, popped up on the balls of his feet and kissing Enoch again.

Enoch held him gently and smiled against his mouth, as if he’d had nothing to do with this total thwarting of Herod’s ambitions. Unbelievable cheek. It would be so nice if that kind of smugness didn’t do it for Herod, but he knew there could be no way Enoch wasn’t feeling Herod’s erection pressed against his leg.

“We must go home,” Herod insisted, arguing against Enoch’s impossible magnetism. "We really must.“

"Definitely,” Enoch agreed. His thumb brushed gently over Herod’s cheekbone and Herod sighed indulgently, relishing the softness of bare skin. He hadn’t expected so much of his face to be sensitive. This was astonishing.

Herod looked at him through heavy-lidded eyes. Enoch was grinning broadly and Herod wanted to burst with joy. Had these last few minutes even happened? It was inconceivable.

“What if they found us out here?” he asked, lightly kissing Enoch’s mouth. It was Enoch’s fault that they were still out here, necking like newlyweds in a public thoroughfare. Would the man not think of his reputation? "What would they say, if they found the mayor of Pottsfield letting a destitute leper kiss him?“

”'Lucky mayor,’“ Enoch purred, and the rumble of his voice ran all along Herod’s body as Enoch kissed him.

Enoch kissed him, and kissed him well. Herod was mewling from the attention and thinking seriously about wrapping his legs around Enoch’s waist and directing him to a convenient copse when he thought of their thrice-damned dinner again. Mustering up all his flagging strength, he pecked Enoch’s lips and took several agonizing steps away.

"We have to go home,” Herod said firmly. He put his mask back on, in the hopes that having his mouth out of the way might quell the urge to kiss more. "The roast is going to be dry.“

Enoch smiled at him with an expression of sublime affection and offered Herod his arm. He was such a perfect gentleman when he wanted to be, and Herod rather timidly took his elbow, setting his hand into the crook of his arm. They fit together so very well, he thought. There was something clichéd about puzzle pieces in that, he was sure.

They walked on for a block or so in silence.

Herod drew in a deep breath. He had something to say to Enoch. There could be no confusion about it, he supposed, but he really might as well tell him openly, now that things were a little cooler.

"Well, I’m sure you know,” Herod said, aping nonchalance. "It must be obvious.“

"Hm?” Enoch asked, sounding as content and lazy as a house cat in a sunbeam.

“Enoch,” Herod admonished. This was embarrassing enough without coyness. "You know. You must know how I feel. Especially if I was so…“ Shameless. "Overt, in the matter of your late blackmailer.”

They turned onto Edel Avenue and Herod caught the blasted man smiling to himself. Incredibly cheeky. How did such a mischievous man ever manage to hold a grave and serious office?

“Oh, yes,” Enoch mused. "I do have a little intuition. But it would mean a great deal to hear it from your own lips.“

Herod hmphed and said nothing, not until they were on his own property once more. As he navigated the broken bricks, he quietly spoke.

"I love you.”

There. It was over. No mistaking it, now.

Enoch stopped and gently halted Herod, too. He turned Herod to face him, touching him like Herod’s bones were porcelain and his skin was parchment.

Enoch reached for his mask and Herod held his breath, letting him take it away. He was so glad they were on his grounds, now, as Enoch stripped him so naked. The intimacy and sensuality of it made him blush, and he hid it in Enoch’s hand, where it cupped his cheek.

Enoch leaned down and kissed him, embracing him and overwhelming him. Enoch was so big, so massive and powerful, and he held Herod like a china cup, terribly fragile, or like a live wire, terrifyingly dangerous, or like a man he loved and wanted, both and all and more. Herod clawed at him, desperate to be close, to be around, to be within.

In the house, Turtle barked.

It drew Herod back to his senses, mostly, and he finished their kiss with a little bite to Enoch’s lower lip. Enoch’s hips twitched and Herod giggled, thrilled by the reaction. That boded extremely well.

He drew himself away, slipping his mask out of Enoch’s hand, and led the way up the steps with perhaps slightly more of a sway in his hips than was strictly necessary.

He looked back down at the beautiful man on his walk, the one who was staring up at him with an expression of glorious hunger and admiration on his face. Enoch was smiling.

Herod just had to feed him.

“Come along,” Herod purred, beckoning him into the house. "We have so much to talk about."


End file.
